All Creatures Great and Small
by LibertyBelleAnne
Summary: Little Tully chases after a butterfly. He gets lost in the big wide world. He makes some friends along the way, but will he ever be found.


**Disclaimer: I wasn't even alive when The Rat Patrol first came out do you really think I own it.**

 **A/N In the Darers Go First Raid Tully was halfway out that window first before Troy stopped him and Hitch went after the dog. He is portrayed as more of a country boy, so I think he had a lot of exposure to animals. So this is my idea of that combined with the childhood butterfly incident mentioned in Blind Man's Bluff Raid.**

 **All Creatures Great and Small**

He yanked at his restraint. Mammy Chloe chuckled and patted his small towhead with her dark hand, "Now, now Tully boy I'm jist about done." She went back to hanging laundry, but the little boy fought the apron strings for a while longer finding no release. This wasn't the first time he'd been tied to his big nanny's side but he still fought each and every time. He plopped onto the ground pouting a little. He soon forgot his troubles as a large orange butterfly with dark spots landed on his nose. Letting out a small giggle of delight he reached for the winged creature. Startling slightly back as it took flight away from his face. Tully watched it flutter a few seconds before it landed on him again; this time his arm. Going more slowly his fingers creeping up on the bug; he touched it this time; a phantom touch to the bright wings. Once more airborne the butterfly landed lightly on a blade of grass a few feet from where Tully sat.

With no thought of Mammy Chloe and her restrictive apron Tully gained his feet. His two year old legs were growing stronger each day but he teetered slightly as he tried to sneak up on his new winged friend. His bare feet troubled the grass sending the insect into flight once more. He was now bound and determined to catch the butterfly. He focused on it entirely taking no notice of where he was going or how far. Traveling around trees, climbing over rocks and climbing under fences he followed the small creature.

While he had a lot of energy, running his nanny ragged most days, it began to diminish. His young leg muscles began to protest the overuse. His feet not yet callused like the bigger boys grew tender. His stomach began to growl; alerting him that lunchtime had come and gone. The end of his quest finally came as the butterfly landed softly on a delicate dandelion. Tully vowed to himself that this was it; this time he would catch it.

Clamping his hands together lightning fast he closed around the wishing flower. He let out a small gasp looking down in a panic when he felt a squish in his hands. Opening them up slowly he felt tears build up in his large doe eyes. Teardrops slid down his cheeks as he took in the scene in his palms. The seedpods that once made up a flower lay limply in his hands. Opening his hands completely he watched them descend towards the ground before being carried off in a slight breeze. He didn't continue watching the seeds blow away like he usually did with his mama. He focused solely on the butterfly as it fell from his hands, landing on the ground, never to fly again. Sitting on the ground he reached a tentative finger to the once delicate now shattered wings. Touching the butterfly gently he let out a broken sob. Lying down in the grass next to the dead creature, Tully cried himself to sleep.

He woke slowly to something nuzzling at his hair. Opening his eyes he reached up his hand feeling something soft. He grabbed a handful of the white fur pulling himself up. Disoriented he took in his new companion. It turned out to be a young white goat. It began to nibble at his overalls. Pushing it away gently he tried to orient himself. Where were his mama and papa? Where was Mammy Chloe and her apron strings? The little goat was back, this time snuffling his toes. He giggled pushing the goat away again. The little goat thinking it a game, like it played with the other kids, reared up knocking the little boy down on his rump. Tears built up again but this time Tully was mad. Jumping to his feet, Tully scolded the little goat, "No! Bad!" Tully knew these words quite well as they were spoken to him regularly. Confused and uncertain, the goat did what it always did when it didn't know what to do, it ran to its mother.

Alone once more Tully glanced around him. The large trees loomed on all sides, blocking his view of any familiar landmarks. His eyes continued darting around the area as he yelled for his papa and mama. Even though he knew he was in big trouble and probably would get a whoopin' he even called for Mammy Chloe too. No adults came. Sniffling he followed after the little goat, hoping to find someone.

He came upon a herd of goats grazing in the meadow. He remembered his papa's large callused hands covering his teaching him how to squeeze the utters of a cow to get the milk out. Tully made his way to one of the smaller goats with a bagged up utter. Sitting next to it he placed his face close and gripped tightly with his small hand. The goat used to the handling waited as the little hands tried to milk her. She kicked slightly when the uncoordinated and unpracticed hands squeezed wrong before settling down to eating again. It took longer than it would've with his papa's help, but Tully managed to take the edge of his hunger with the sweet warm milk. He stood up wiping at his messy mouth. Looking around at the animals curiously he located the one he had met earlier. Petting its soft head gently he made friends with it again. Its mother however was not in a forgiving mood; she came at him with a lowered head. With a small cry of surprise and fear Tully took off into the trees as fast as his little legs would take him. Thankfully the large nanny goat was satisfied in just chasing him off.

He wandered among the large trees, stumbling more frequently over rock and roots as the sun continued its descent. As the sun left the sky so did the warmth it offered. Tully began to shiver as his exposed feet, face, shoulders and arms found no protection from the chill. He stumbled one to many times; his knees and hands were skinned raw and his feet were cut up. Tucking closer to the truck of the tree, whose roots tripped him, he tried to get warm. Calling out as loudly as he could into the darkness; they would never find him. He was too far, it was too dark, and he was too small-the world too big.

Tears once more ran over. They would never find him. He was all alone. He was too small to remember his way. Little Tully was too small to be seen passed the big trees. Too small to milk good enough or chase away big goats. He was even too small to be careful and not smush the butterfly.

He was so cold. But something large and warm was lying next to him. His face was getting wet by something long and warm. His heavy eyelids opened slowly trying to see through the darkness. His numb fingers reached slowly to the brown body next to him. Large chocolate eyes locked on his, while the dog continued bathing away his tears.

"Good boy," Tully whispered smiling at the large canine. His heavy lids began to close slowly as his hurt, cold and exhausted body demanded rest.

The next time Tully woke it was to the soothing motion of a huge horse beneath him. It was still dark but strong arms held his small blanket covered body close. Looking up dazedly at the lantern beside him he saw a small moth flying around the light. The big arms tightened securely around him as he reclined back, into the chest of the person holding him, taking in the smells of his papa. "Rest son, we're almost home," the usually bigger than life voice whispered soothingly in his ear. A bark closeby seemed to echo his papa's words, reassuring the little boy.

Fighting the pull of sleep Tully whispered back, "Look Papa, butterfly," before his eyes fluttered closed gently.


End file.
